Harry Potter and the Heir to the Enemy of the Dark
by Tianessa
Summary: Set in 7th year with all HBP spoilers. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny are looking for Voldemort's Horcruxes, and get help from someone unexpected who is related to someone they all loved and knew very dearly. Who is it? PLEASE REVIEW! This is my first
1. Who are you?

Harry peered out his window, hoping beyond hope to see a flying car awaiting his presence. Nope. Nothing stirred the peaceful silence other than the occasional squawk of a bird or the bark of the dog next door. Harry finally closed the shades and collapsed onto his bed. He had not heard from Ron or Hermione for over two weeks. He knew there was most likely an explanation. In his first summer after Hogwarts, a house elf named Dobby had stolen his mail, trying to discourage him from going back so he wouldn't be harmed by the basilisk that had been unleashed from Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets.

"There's no basilisk anymore," Harry reminded himself. Though he never admitted it to anyone for fear of being thought conceited, he was extremely proud of himself for defeating the monstrous creature. He had been terrified, but had pushed the fear aside to find the courage to save both his and Ginny's lives.

Harry looked longingly at his Firebolt, desperate to fly again. He had been cooped up in the Dursley home for over six weeks now and was on the verge of not being sane anymore. "I'll bet Ron and Hermione are off together snogging," thought Harry bitterly. "Nice of them to leave me here all summer." Harry actually was grateful to be allowed in the house for even a day, for it bestowed a powerful protection upon him that his mother had given him when she died. It was a safe haven. But Harry would rather walk on the dangerous streets and be susceptible to Voldemort's powers than be kept inside. His godfather, Sirius, had been under the same torture and as a result had died because he had been desperate to get out. "If he hadn't been so anxious to get out, he wouldn't have come to the Department of Mysteries," Harry noted, once again furious with Dumbledore for bestowing the terrible fate upon his loving godfather, but then relenting when remembering the old man was no longer there to be angry with. Harry remembered the terrible night last year. He cursed Professor Snape silently, vowing to find both him and Voldemort and kill them.

"Boy! Get down here this instant!" Harry reluctantly walked into the kitchen and looked up at the fat, scowling face of Uncle Vernon.

"You rang?" he said in a bored, sarcastic tone. Uncle Vernon's face turned purple.

"I thought we told you no more ruddy owls!" he shouted. "I won't have it anymore! That stupid tawny bunch of fluff swarmed right in here and knocked over my coffee. That's ten pounds an gram, thank you very much! Best coffee in London! I won't have it wasted because of a stupid animal!" Harry tried his best not to laugh.

"Did it bring a letter for me?" asked Harry, trying not to sound too eager. Uncle Vernon mumbled curse words under his breath and handed him a tiny, yellowed envelope. Harry tore it open eagerly and read its contents.

_Dear Harry,_

I hope this letter finds you well. The Weasleys have graciously 

_invited you to spend the remaining summer at the Burrow. I thought it kind to inform you that Miss Granger is already there. A member of the Order will be retrieving _

_you tonight at promptly 5:30 pm. Please have your school supplies ready._

_Minervra McGonogal_

Harry breathed in relief, a smile spreading widely across his face, stretching his cheeks so far he thought they would burst. So they had not forgotten him. He checked his watch. 5:20! He ran up to his room, picking up his things and tossing them in his trunk. Because his clothes were not folded and would not fit, he leapt into the air and sat down with a thunk on the top. It groaned. Harry dragged his trunk and broomstick downstairs, his wand protruding from his back jeans pocket. Just as he sank into the sofa and panted tiredly, the doorbell rang. Harry answered in eagerly, and stared at the girl looking at him. She was very pretty, with soft brown curls. Her eyes were a bright sparkling blue. They looked quite familiar, but Harry couldn't place it. 

"Hi," he said. The girl glared at him.

"Hello," she said curtly. Harry was taken aback.

"Who are you?" he asked. The girl rolled her eyes.

"Did you not get the note?" she replied in disgust. "It said a member of the Order would pick you up. Here I am." Harry stared. She couldn't be more than fifteen.

"You're a member of the order?" he said. She nodded briskly (much like Professor McGonagall, Harry noticed.) She raised a wand, and Harry's things zoomed up. Harry jumped out of the way just in time as the hovered in midair, and with a pop, they disappeared.

"Come on," she said impatiently. "I'm not waiting all day!" Harry was baffled.

"What about Death Eaters?" he said blankly. The girl smirked.

"What, are you scared of them Potter?" she mocked in a baby voice. Harry narrowed his eyes.

"No," he said angrily, "I just wanted to point out that you didn't even check to see that I was indeed Harry. For all you know, I could be a Death Eater. And so could you! How do I know who you _really _are?" The girl stared in disbelief and annoyance.

"Fine," she huffed. "First of all, I'm a much more powerful witch than you are, and could instantly detect any sort of magic or disguise upon you. Even Polyjuice potion. And second of all, I don't have to prove anything to you. I'm a highly ranked Order member, and you're not. So let's go." She pulled out a teapot and forced in into Harry's hand, clasping it tightly with her own.

Before he could pull away and demand a further explanation, Harry felt a familiar rush of exhilaration. He was being pulled further and further, and his head swarm as he felt a dizzy sensation. Suddenly, it stopped. Harry toppled forward onto a rough street, and crashed brutally into the concrete. His glasses were knocked askew. The girl pulled him up and gave him back his glasses.

"Nicely done," she retorted coolly, scoffing. She swept off with her purple robes billowing behind her, tiny yellow stars sparkling in every fold, and Harry could think of nothing else but to follow her helplessly. If she were a Death Eater, she wouldn't just be letting him walk freely, would she? Voldemort wasn't that trusting. But then again, it might be a decoy. A trap meant to confuse Harry. He halted uncertainly, and the girl noticed what he was doing.

"What is it this time?" she exclaimed. "Come on. The Burrow is just around the corner!" Feeling a rush of relief, Harry trailed after her, and came to a battered mailbox. Voldemort would not know about the Burrow. The girl stared at it fiercely. "Harry Potter and Melinda Dumbledore." The mailbox suddenly had a mouth.

"Go right ahead," it said in a pleasant voice. Harry gaped at the girl.

"Dumbledore?" he gasped? Dumbledore was dead! He didn't have any relatives! Did he? No! Of course not! Martina brushed past him, and headed down a very long winding road made of dirt. Harry hurried after her, and quickly caught up.

"Did you say your last name was Dumbledore," he breathed. Martina gave him a glare, and continued not to look at him. "How did you know Al-Albus? Did you?" Martina nodded yet again, and Harry thought he could see a tear trickle down her cheek, but he couldn't be sure. "How were you related to him?" he asked. Martina snapped.

"He was my grandfather!" she exploded. "And I'd rather not talk about him, all right?" Harry sighed in frustration. If she was indeed Dumbledore's granddaughter, then perhaps she knew about the Horcruxes? She could help him! After all, at least some of Dumbledore's powerful magic must have been passed down to her.

Not far away, Harry could see a familiar house coming into view. A girl with flaming red hair was standing in the front, grinning broadly and waving. Harry broke into a run, and leapt forward to hug Ginny. She seemed shocked.

"Harry what are you doing?" she hissed, pulling away. Harry stared at her. Not her too! He already had one moody teenage girl.

"What's wrong?" he asked worriedly. Ginny smiled.

"Oh, nothing's wrong," she replied. "I just thought we weren't supposed to be together. So said it's for my 'own protection'. Of course, bloody my protection. But you insisted so strongly before. I'm just surprised. You usually don't change your mind.'

With a pang, Harry remembered his conversation with Ginny at Dumbledore's funeral. He knew he had been absolutely right, of course. But they could still be friends, couldn't they?"

"You're absolutely right," Harry said, "I mean, I was right…I mean…" Ginny giggled, and Melinda looked upon them with obvious disgust, and perhaps even a little bit of Albus's recognizable bemusement?

"We can still be friends, though," Harry pleaded hastily. "I mean, he already knows that we know each other. Maybe…" He felt dejected and hopeless. Ginny gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and said sweetly," Of course, Harry. Best friends." Harry grinned down at her, grabbed her hand, and they followed a sweeping angry teenage into the front door of the Burrow.

"Harry!" a screaming plump, redheaded woman embraced Harry tightly. "How are you dear?" Harry smiled up at an anxious Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm fine, thanks," he assured her. Mrs. Weasley glared suspiciously.

"You sure your family was kind to you? I mean, I would really hate to find out that you were keeping it inside to be brave, because you know I'm always here for you, right?" Harry gave her a hug.

"I know," he said, walking inside with Ginny.

"Oh Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley called. "Forgot to tell you. You're going to be a groomsman in Bill's wedding next week along with Ron, Fred and George, and Percy. Yes, Percy dear," she added, catching the look on Harry's face. "Charlie will be his best man. You're going to be paired with Ginny dear," she winked at him encouragingly. Harry felt a warm rush of happiness spread throughout his body, and grinned at Ginny. "And Ron and Hermione are upstairs, Harry. You can go on up. Ginny, could you help me for a second with something?" Ginny scowled, and followed her mother into the kitchen. Suddenly, Harry heard a shriek.

"Oh, mom! Thank you! I can't believe it!" Ginny emerged, clutching a wrapped gift that looked like a goblet. She looked ecstatic, and wouldn't reveal what was in the bundle. Harry dashed with her up the stairs, and headed down the hall to Ron's room.

"Oh Ron! Really! Scourgify! You're so irresponsible! And you being Head Boy and what not!" Harry pressed his ear against the crude wooden door and grinned at the typical argument of his best friends. He threw on his invisibility cloak for extra humor and silently entered the room, Ginny leaving him to head down to her room. Hermione was standing in the middle of the room with her arms crosses and her eyes fiercely glaring at Ron. Ron looked sheepish and flushed.

"It was just a little experiment!" he explained hastily. "You know, if we're ever in an -er- situation where we need to escape. You remember the Ministry's warning? Now that they're finally admitting Voldemort's return, they're giving us all types of helpful tips! Even my mum and dad admit it!" Hermione looked skeptical and thunderous.

"Since when does your family listen to the Ministry? May I remind you, it was _them _who made Harry's last two years miserable! It was _them _who sent Dolores Umbridge – curse her name – to Hogwarts, and it was _them _who put Sirius in Azkaban for twelve bloody years! And now, when Voldemort's back, it's time for you to start acting seriously and responsibly!"

"Those two don't go together, Hermione," Harry said a laughing voice. "Sirius was never responsible." Hermione and Ron looked around wildly.

"Who's there?" Hermione shrieked, drawing her wand. "We're armed!" Ron looked flummoxed and quite baffled. Through his laughter, Harry managed to draw off his shimmering cloak and let it sag to the ground.

"Please don't shoot," he grinned happily. Hermione threw her arms around him.

"Oh Harry!" Harry pulled her off.

"I've only been gone three days," he laughed. Ron looked embarrassed at her outburst.

"Hey mate," he said. Harry looked at him.

"Hi Ron," Harry smiled. "Aren't you going to hug me too?" Ron backed up.

"Not with Hermione here," he joked. Hermione pretended to look offended, but ended up laughing with them. Harry pulled his friends into a tight hug.

"You know," he said softly, "If Voldemort does get the better of me, you know I love you guys and will miss you." Both of his friends immediately grew somber and serious.

"We're with you all the way, Harry," Hermione whispered. Ron nodded fervently in agreement.

"All the way, mate."

"Boys! Get down here! The wedding is in six hours!" Ron and Harry jerked awake.

"The wedding's in six bloody hours," Ron grumbled. "Six hours! We're not girls, we only have to shower and get dressed." Mrs. Weasley suddenly apparated in the middle of the room and with a flick of her wand, Harry and Ron's covers flew away, folding neatly in a corner of the room.

"Time to get up," she snapped, disappearing. Ron stared where she had been a moment before.

"Women," he mumbled. Harry walked to the bathroom that he, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were all sharing to shower. Ginny and Hermione were dashing from the door, their hair wrapped in towels, both girls carrying brushes and lots of unidentifiable things. Harry chuckled after them.

He crawled out of the shower, now wide awake. His hair was actually flat for once, lying neatly on his head.

'I wonder what's in magic shampoo,' he wondered. Harry drew on the robes that all the groomsmen were wearing, a silvery purple. Approving Bill's choice, Harry combed his hair down, and looked at himself in a mirror. To his surprise, he was very pleased with his appearance. Ron appeared wearing the same robes and desperately trying to get a comb out of his hair.

"Harry, it's stuck!" he wailed, and Harry yanked the brush out (along with a few of Ron's bright red hairs). They walked downstairs expecting a big crowd, but only Fred and George were there, with Charlie sitting in a huge armchair reading _Dragon Training for Experts_. He smiled warmly at Harry.

"All right there, Harry?" Harry grinned back, giving him a thumbs up. Fred and George were standing silently behind Charlie, spraying what looked like a thick pink mist over his head. Harry exploded with laughter as Charlie's hair turned shocking pink. Ron gasped for breath and clutched his sides. The twins seemed to have put a silencing shield on their brother, and he was oblivious to everyone around him laughing. Suddenly, a flustered Mr. Weasley apparated with a _CRACK! _

"Are you all here?" he asked frantically. "Good."

"Where are all the girls?" Harry asked him, confused. Everyone else laughed.

"They're girls, Harry," Fred explained. "It's in their nature. They got up four hours before us, and will get here a second before we leave." Ron and Charlie then started a game of chess, and everyone crowed around to watch. Harry thought that Charlie was probably the only person in the world who could last that long against Ron. They made furious motions, and both sets of chess pieces were worn in and very excellent at being silent and listening to their controller without putting up a fight. Ron finally won, after brandishing his queen and capturing Charlie's king in a corner. The king took off his crown and threw it at the queen's feet. Ron grinned triumphantly. Charlie glared at his younger brother, pushed back his chair and stood up. Harry looked at his watch.

"The girls will be down here any second," he announced, as all the men sighed in relief, Mr. Weasley included.

"Finally," George muttered. They all waited a moment, and then Mrs. Weasley appeared. Harry gasped. Her hair was extra curled and something had made it shining and beautiful and redder than Harry thought hair could ever be. She wore maroon robes that swept the ground, and her skin was shimmering. Harry had never seen her look this pretty. Apparently, neither had Mr. Weasley. He gaped at his wife, and finally regaining his wits, he went forward and kissed her hand.

"You looked wonderful," he murmured in amazement. Mrs. Weasley blushed. Harry looked expectantly at the stairs, waiting for Ginny to arrive.

And she did. Harry could only stare. She was wearing different robes than her mother, a light silver that reflected upon her brilliant hair, which reached the middle of her back, curling slightly at the end. She grinned and Harry, who did not move. She walked forward towards him, and Harry kissed her hair.

"You look beautiful," he said honestly. Ginny grinned, not at all self-conscious like her mother.

"You look great, too Harry," she replied enthusiastically, unaware of her gorgeousness. Harry barely even noticed as Hermione arrived in the same robes as Ginny and smiled mischeiviously at Ron.

"Ronald," she said quietly. Ron said something so soft that only she could hear it, and suddenly he leaned forward and kissed her. When he drew back, a look of relief and utter amazement shone upon his face. Hermione was startled, and then a smile slowly spread across her face. She grabbed Ron around his neck, and kissed him again. Everyone in the room simultaneously thought, 'It's about time," and Harry laughed out loud. Ginny looked at Harry.

"So it's a no?" she asked softly. Harry looked at her, troubled, and said, "You couldn't die, I would kill myself." Ginny nodded slightly in understanding, but looked dejected just the same. Harry instead clutched her left hand and wrapped his right arm around her.

"I love you, you know," he whispered into her hair. He reveled in it. How could hair possibly be so soft and shiny? Ginny hugged him back. No one noticed Melinda arrive, looking the most beautiful and depressed of all.

Harry and Ginny waited anxiously outside a pair of huge oak doors. Ron and Hermione were kissing fiercely, and Fred was standing with Angelina, while George was holding the hands of some brunette that Harry did not know. Charlie was chatting with a girl that looked like she probably trained dragons too, from the look of her bulging muscles and calloused hands. Gabrielle Delocour stood alone, looking at Harry hopefully and making faces at Ginny.

Music rang, and Charlie and his date pushed open the door and walked down the isle, smiling happily, while Gabrielle followed angrily, mad at being behind them. It was Harry and Ginny's turn. They clasped hands tightly, and began the long walk through the hall. They reached the front, and Harry saw Bill for the first time, looking actually quite good considering the circumstances. His nose seemed longer and more snout like and his eyes were narrower. His cheekbones were higher, though in this case they worked for him. Harry caught sight of pointed ears under his hair. Bill was looking expectantly down the isle, wearing robes of a deep green to match his eyes.

Suddenly a chord struck, and it was silent. The huge oak doors once more, and there stood Fleur. There were loud intakes of breath, and the slapping noises of women hitting their husbands.

Fleur was wearing white robes than seemed to be a solid color, and yet twinkled silver in every fold. Her blonde hair seemed to belong to an angel, and her skin seemed milky and smooth. Harry vaguely knew that Ginny was beside him, but he could not help but stare at the beautiful woman. He felt a tug on his hand, and instantly snapped out of it. Harry looked once again at an impatient but grinning Ginny, and suddenly had the fleeting thought that Ginny was perhaps more beautiful. He gently kissed her hand.

"Maybe I was wrong about us," he whispered. Harry forgot Voldemort for the moment; not at all caring about the side effects of his being with the one girl he loved. Ginny's eyes widened, and then hardened in the blazing way that Harry knew only too well.

"Finally," she whispered back. "I missed you." They not did see Melinda sitting in the first row, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at them.


	2. A New Dark Lord?

The wedding ceremony was beautiful. Bill's friend and fellowcurse breaker atGringottsread funny stories about their adventures with a certain perfectionist goblin who was extremely touchy and snappish. Apparently, Bill and his friend had taken advantage of this, much to the goblin's annoyance. Finally, the two kissed, and everyone cheered. Ginny looked sideways at Harry while clapping merrily and winked at him.

After the service, everyone returned to the Burrow where there party would be held. Harry, who had been there just that morning, was startled at how many changes had been made in such a short amount of time. Live angels were floating gracefully around, singing in high, pure voices. Once in awhile, one would shoot someone in the back with an arrow, and that person would suddenly become sweet and look for his or her love. Streamers were hung up everywhere, and tiny sparklers continually exploded (courtesy of Fred and George). Harry took Ginny's hand and led her over to meet with Bill and Fleur, who were thanking everyone for coming. Ginny reached forward enthusiastically and hugged her brother.

"Congratulations!" she cried happily. "The first Weasley to marry. I bet I'm next," she added, sneaking a look at a blushing Harry. Harry was thinking if he should shake Bill's hand in a manly way when the second eldest Weasley hugged him.

"Thank you so much for coming Harry!" Bill smiled. Harry instantly felt right at home. It was all right. He was a Weasley, too.

"It was beautiful," he answered honestly, grinning. Mr. Weasley sauntered over with a bottle of Fire whiskey in his left hand.

"Hello boys," he croaked. "Fleur, you're gorgeous. Will you marry me?" he swayed and cackled drunkenly. Fleur stared in open-mouthed horror, while Bill roared with laughter.

"He's never had a drink in his life!" he cried throughout laughs. Ginny rolled her eyes at her father, and helped Bill carry him over to a plush maroon chair.

"You stay there, Dad," she ordered sternly, while Charlie came rushing over to tend to him. Ginny turned and vanished into the crowed. Harry looked around to see many familiar faces. Lupin was chatting with Tonks, who had long, silky black hair and a dreamy look upon her face. Professor McGonogall was talking with Hagrid about some sort of Jabberth.

"And I fed 'im a slobberworm, and 'e went all calm, yer know what I mean?" Hagrid said. Harry laughed at Professor MgGonogall's revolted expression. She pulled her tall black hat further down on her face. Madam Promfery was lugging around a portrait of a fat lady in a silk dress.

"If only Dumbledore were here," the Fat Lady complained. "He could get me out of here for a couple hours and I wouldn't have to be lugged around like a box of-"

Harry didn't hear the rest of her complaint, for a firecracker whizzed right at his head, and he was forced to duck. He silently marveled at Fred and Georg's magical ability, and headed over to the punch table. Kingsley Shacklebolt was standing there, looking grumpy and thoroughly unhappy.

"Hi," Harry said. Kingsley merely grunted and turned away to find himself face to face with Hermione Granger, who looked dazed and happy, a tall redheaded boy standing behind her, beaming.

"H-hi there," she giggled, very girlishly. The man turned away once more.

"Filthy mudblood," he grunted. Harry grabbed Kingsley's shoulders and whirled him around to look into his eyes.

"What did you call her?" he demanded. Shacklebolt looked disgruntled.

"Wha-what do you mean, Potter?" he shook. Harry glared at him.

"You called her Mudblood," he accused. Kingsley cursed.

"Knew I was forgetting something " he hissed to himself. Harry shook him.

"What are you talking about?" he shouted. "And why are you calling me Potter? What is wrong with you?" Hermione backed up, looking with disgust at the highly ranked Auror and member of the ministry. Kingsley sighed in frustration.

"I've waited long enough," he growled, pulling out a long, thin wand. Harry plunged his hands into his robes, but not before the man's skin had started to bubble up. Harry stared.

"Polyjuice Potion," Hermione whispered. The man looked down at his arms, and realized his mistake. Halfway through the transformation, an eerie sign appeared upon his right forearm. He pressed it, screamed in pain, and grinned nastily at the silently shocked party. Black, hooded men appeared, laughing and cackling evilly. Harry clenched his wand tightly, and quickly pointed it at the Death Eater who had been disguised as Shacklebolt.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he bellowed. The curse rebounded off the man. He smirked.

"At Potter," he drawled. "You didn't take a good look at this mark on my arm now, did you?" Harry looked at the Dark Mark. No, not the Dark Mark. There was no stake entwining the skull. It was a…

"An eagle?" Harry said faintly. The man nodded.

"Very good boy," he hissed. But then, Harry realizes it wasn't a hiss. It was a twerp. The man grabbed Harry's wand while the boy was standing frozen, and twirled it carelessly between his thumb and forefinger. He grabbed Harry by the front of his robes and lifted him into the air with extraordinary strength. He pulled Harry closer until they were face to face.

"Do not dare humiliate me by assuming that I follow that idiot snake man," he snarled. Harry's eyebrows rose.

"What, you mean Voldemort?" he said carelessly, smiling at the man's expression.

"I will not tell you not to speak the name," the man said. "He is not clever enough to create fear of a name. However, I am. My name is Gremur." Harry stared the man straight in the eye.

"Only Voldemort is good at being an ass," he taunted. The man's eye's lowered, and he threw Harry from him with all his might.

"I am the Dark Lord!" he roared. "No one else! No one can challenge _me _and live!" Harry lay on the floor, wandless and quite amused. Ron tried to throw him his wand, but another robed man caught it easily and pocketed it. Ron looked faint, and Fred came up from behind and supported him.

"My wand," Ron moaned. Harry gave him a 'well you tried' look. Suddenly, there was a yell of, "Stupefy!" A bright blue jet of light flew out and knocked Gremur off of his feet. Harry breathed in relief, and started to get up when Gremur leapt up and starting advancing upon Ginny, who was standing firmly on the ground.

"I just told your little boyfriend over there," he said. "You see these little hats on our heads? Course not, they're invisible. Well, these are extremely helpful little things called Shield Hats.

"Hey!" came a yell. Fred started sprinting towards the man, who froze his legs with a flick of his wand.

"Nice things you make at that little shop of yours," he said calmly. Fred struggles fiercely against his body bind, then finally regained his senses, pointed his wand at his legs, and muttered the counter curse. He walked towards Gremur.

"You lying hag," he stated calmly, George now accompanying him. "We never sold our stuff to you." Gremur smiled.

"Oh, but you did," he chuckled. My little daughter here walked right in and bought your stuff for me. Helpful little tad. First one I branded with my mark." He brushed his finger in a complicated pattern across his mark, and with a loud crack, a tall, hooded figure appeared. It sank to its knees.

"Please father," came a weeping voice that Harry thought rather familiar. "Please. I don't want to kill him. I _can't_. They were my friends! Please! Plea-g" she was cut short as the Gremur swished his wand and she fell over, screaming in pain. When he released her, she lay sobbing at his feet.

"No, not the Cruciatus curse," Gremur said softly. "No, not that pitiful excuse of torture. This here is a little invention of mine, called the Jibber Jive. Actual scissors are inside you, and start cutting away at you organs. After awhile, you die. Hurts, too," he added, gesturing towards the crying figure.

Harry wanted to kill this man, almost as much as Voldemort. For he had finally recognized the voice of the crying person, and put that and the Eagle Mark together. He ran forward and pulled off the figure's hood.

"Cho!" he whispered in disbelief. He had known it was her, but still could not take it in. The beautiful girl lay sobbing at his feet, looking up at his with the utmost despair and longing.

"Kill me," she whispered. "I can't take it, just kill me please. Please." Cho moaned as Gremur sent another dose of the Jibber Jive. She screamed in agony and pain and clutched into a ball. It stopped, and she breathed heavily. Gremur sniggered.

"I can't use it in big doses," he explained in a low voice. "She'll die, and I most certainly don't want that. But a little bit of pain now and then is only good for discipline, and she is in dire need of _that_." He chuckled, and Harry stood up slowly and advanced upon him.

"Let her go," he said calmly. "Or I'll kill you." Gremur laughed.

"In case you haven't noticed boy," he answered, "you are wandless, and I have a wand. And now I conquer you." He pointed his wand at Harry's chest, when a high, cruel voice broke in.

"He is mine." Harry looked in horror as Voldemort glided towards him, loathing written upon his face. His bright red eyes gleamed angrily and he looked in disgust at Gremur.

"Harry Potter is mine,' he repeated. Death Eaters stood behind him, trying to look immensely threatening to Gremur's followers, who returned the favor with icy cold glares, making some Death Eaters whimper. Harry knew he was trapped. How could such a wonderful party turn into a graveyard? He reprimanded himself for thinking it, but he knew that most of the Weasleys would not escape the predicted fight ahead. They just were not good enough. With a pang, he thought of Ginny. He backed up, but Gremur jabbed his wand in his chest, causing Hary to wince in pain.

Voldemort walked forward, his wand pointing at Gremur.

"Give me Potter," he said. "And I will spare your life. Thank you ever so kindly for surrounding him for me. Now allow me to kill him, or would you like to take his place?"

Gremur hesitated, then screamed, "Jibiero!" and aimed at Voldemort, who easily leaned sideways, the spell missing him by inches.

"Do you really think of fighting me?" he hissed. "I am the Dark Lord, the unbeatable."

"No you're not!" came a trilling voice. Harry twirled around, searching for the anonymous voice. Ginny's fists were clentched at her sides, her eyes piercing and her face white and furious.

"Who dares interrupt me?" Voldemort snarled. Ginny sent red sparks into the air from her anger.

"Me," she growled. Voldemort laughed delightedly. "You're not unbeatable," she continued hurriedly. "Harry's beaten you four times and he will tonight!" Voldemort lazily pointed his wand at the fierce red-headed girl.

"Avada Ked-" He was cut off when Gremur threw a spell at him once more, determined to win. Voldemort ducked, and Ginny took that moment to run to Harry.

"Ginny, get out of here!" Harry cried as she helped him up. She glared at him.

"Harry, no," she growled. "I'm staying and helping you. If you haven't noticed, you have no wand." She added, twirling hers. Harry snatched it and sent a spell at her that caused her to Apparate into Dumbledore's old Headmaster office at Hogwarts.

He stood watching as Gremur and Voldemort dueled. Voldemort was obviously much more powerful, but, being a former Ravenclaw, Gremur was much more knowledgeable and knew many deadly spells, some that Harry was quite sure he had invented himself. It was getting nastier and nastier. Gremur's men walked towards the terrified Death Eaters, and starting cursing them without a thought. They quickly won, and turned to cheer on their master. Voldemort's eyes grew steadily redder.

"Crucio!' he shouted. Gremur conjured up a shield, and the curse rebounded, leaving the shield shattered and broken. Gremur tossed it away, and raised his wand.

"Leviorsa!" he bellowed. His aim missed, and a fallen Death Eater rose into the air, his top half breaking off from his bottom and floating into the air. The bottom fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He was not yet dead, but blood was flowing thickly from his severed body.


	3. Break Up

Harry closed his eyes in disgust. He had never seen such an absolutely sickening sight. He heard Ron's sharp intake of breath behind him, and Hermione gasped in revulsion. Harry started sprinting backwards towards them.

"C'mon," he bellowed. "We've got to get out of here. Voldemort and Gremur are powerful, and we're no match for _two _of them." Ron nodded faintly, grabbed Hermione's hand, and they vanished with a ferociously loud CRACK! Harry whirled around to see Voldemort advancing upon Gremur, who was slowly but surely panicking.

"I-I'll kill you," he snarled, stammering only slightly. Voldemort laughed in a high, cruel voice and swished his wand down upon Gremur.

"Crucio!" But Gremur had disappeared. Voldemort threw a menacing look towards the empty space, beckoned to the few Death Eaters who were slowly rising from their positions lying on the floor, and with a loathing look at Harry, disapparated. Apparently he was not in the mood for a battle and wished to postpone his one with Harry, who breathed heavily. Gremur's followers started progressing upon the terrified partiers, who backed up and trembling, raised their wands. Suddenly, each hooded figure clutched their right forearm and screamed in pain. One fell right onto the floor and started withering right in front of Harry's feet. He looked down with disgust, and shoved the dark wizard away. They all vanished until one was left sobbing with her head in her hands.

"Harry, help me!" Cho shrieked, grabbing her left wrist. Huge, hot tears were rolling down her face and she was screaming out in pain. "Harry, please!" A hooded figure appeared, roughly grabbed Cho by her dark black robes, and they vanished. Harry ran towards the spot where she had been only seconds before.

"Cho!" he shouted. "Cho, come back! Cho!" He started crying, and fell to his knees.

"Gremur will kill her!" he screamed."He's killing her right now with that disgusting curse, and there's nothing I can do. I'll kill him!" he screamed once more. "I've lost everyone, I won't lose her, too!" He grabbed Ginny's wand tightly, and tried to Apparate. Nothing happened.

"Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley cried, "There's pink smog in the air. He's put up an anti-apparation spell!" Harry looked at the fog, and cursed loudly, while some flinched. He finally surrendered, collapsing on the floor. Someone lifted his chin tenderly and gently, and he came face to face with an angry Ginny.

"Hello, Harry," she said coldly. "I had a great trip, just in case you're wondering." Harry opened his mouth to reply but she continued harshly. "My boyfriend sends me somewhere without my permission, and I had to make an illegal Portkey to get back here. It's my family here, Harry!" she shouted. "My bloody family! I'm sixteen Harry, I'm not a child! But obviously, Cho was! You seemed a little upset over her, Harry," she added with a thundering look in her eyes. "A little too upset for me, Harry." She stormed off, mumbling incoherent words under her breath, while Harry stared after he in frustration.

"Right," he said angrily. Fred and George walked over to him nervously, and attempted at a comforting session.

"It's all right Harry," Fred tried. "She always gets in these moods. She'll forgive you, mate. I mean, she's a girl. Girls are always moody."

"Yeah," George said half-convinced. "Besides, you didn't even do anything wrong, right Fred?" he turned to his brother for support, who nodded enthusiastically. Harry glared at them.

"Thanks," he said bitterly. "But this time, it won't help. She's right." He jammed his fists down at his sides, clenched his teeth, and walked away.

"Harry, where are you going?" Mrs. Weasley cried in panic. He was an angry teenage boy, she had raised five of them, and right now he would surely go and do something stupid.

"Away," Harry answered shortly, and left.

The party members tried desperately to regain the happy, carefree feeling that had filled the room moments ago, but it was all fake. Bill looked stunned, and Fleur cried upon his shoulder, staining the beautiful material of his robes. Hagrid was howling like a wounded dog, and his great shaggy whiskers were sopping wet. Even Fred and George stood together in a corner, looking serious and grave. Ron reappeared with a loud CRACK! And sat miserably on a huge couch, with Hermione beside him.

"I can't stand it!" he said bitterly. "Just when something goes right for Harry, Voldemort or someone snatches it away."

"I know," Hermione said in a small voice.

"Bloody hell, the kid deserves something _good _in his life for once!" Ron exploded, making an extremely rude hand gesture. It was a sign of the atmosphere surrounding them that Hermione did not even comment on it.

"I know," Hermione said miserably. "You-you know what Ron? I…I don't think tha-that Harry really wants to live after he kills Voldemort." Ron stared at the floor dully. "I mean, he'll hate knowing that he killed so-someone, even if it is Vol-Voldemort. He hates his life." Ron nodded in agreement, his eyes staring in fascination at nothing in particular on the wooden floor. His concentration broke when a tall figure blocked his view.

"Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonogall said, looking extremely severe and foreboding.

"Yes Professor," Ron supplied in a monotone voice. Professor McGonogall was startled by the maturity and gloominess of such a young man, but let the matter drop. "Mr. Weasley? Miss. Granger? I know that Harry informed you of his doings during his last…outing…with Albus. Am I correct?" Her eyes were oddly intense. Hermione noticed this.

"Well, I suppose so," she said in surprise. Professor McGonogall nodded.

"Good," she said distractedly. "That's very good. Would you perhaps be capable of telling me?" Hermione sat rigid.

"No," she said firmly. "Harry told us not to tell anyone. We're keeping our promise. I'm sorry."

Professor McGonogall sighed in frustration. Kids these days, she marveled! No respect for their elders. I suppose I'll simply have to use different methods with them, that's all.

Harry sat on a crooked bench looking over the gray sky. The seat was wooden and half rotten. The non-rotten part was collapsing halfway and crumbling in tiny pieces to the ground, but Harry didn't care or notice. He fingered Ginny's wand, tracing the wood grains with his index finger, taking great care not to leave a smudge.

Sirius, I wish you were here, he thought gloomily. You always knew what to say, how to fix things. You just can't be gone! Everyone's leaving me, it's not fair.

"Who said life was ever fair?" Startled, Harry spun around in his seat.

"Professor Lupin?" Lupin smiled tragically and nodded.

"Please Harry," he said. "Call me Remus." Harry did not smile.

"You're a Legilimes?" he asked dully. Remus tried to look apologetic. Harry turned his head away.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "I want to be left alone. _Please_," he emphasized. Lupin sighed, but did not leave. Instead, he took a seat next to Harry, holding his back and wincing with pain. Harry suddenly noticed with a start that Lupin was getting old. Not as old as Dumbledore had been, or Professor McGonogall, but he was no longer a fun-loving, cheerful young man. He had only been two years younger two years ago, but with Sirius, somehow it had been different. Lupin was a depressed man now, one who had lost all of his friends. That's one thing I have that someone else doesn't have, Harry thought in dismay. I've still got Ron and Hermione. And maybe Ginny?…

Harry's eyes suddenly welled up with tears, and he blinked furiously, trying to fight them back. How dare you, he thought. How dare you make me look weak. Lupin noticed the tears.

"Harry, it's all right," he pleaded. "You're human. You can cry. You don't have to be strong _all _the time. You're still a boy."

"No, I'm not," Harry said softly. Lupin looked at the boy with a mixture of pity and sorrow. "I've never been a boy," Harry continued, his face flinching at the truth. "I've always been the Boy-Who-Lived, or the hero. You've never had to carry that weight. No one knows how many times a day I wish I were someone else. But now, I actually have to do something to deserve my title. And I'm scared."

And for the first time in his life, Harry leaned his head on someone else's shoulder to cry on. Lupin patted his back and stroked his hair, making it extremely messy and causing it to stick straight up.

Harry mechanically tried to straighten everything in his trunk, but was unsuccessful. Hermione silently entered his room, and cleared her throat to announce her presence. Harry whirled around.

"Oh, it's you," he said. Hermione grinned.

"Yes, it's me," she laughed. Harry turned around and resumed his excuse of packing. "Harry, you've got to snap out of this mood you've been in," she said firmly. "You've got everyone in the Burrow upset. Including me." Harry didn't turned around, and sighing, Hermione left. Harry didn't notice someone else come in.

"Harry?" Harry growled, and grabbed his hair in frustration.

"Hermione, please leave me alone!"

"I'm not Hermione," Melinda replied just as menacingly. She flicked her wand, and Harry froze. His arms snapped to his sides and his face went rigid. He fell backwards onto the rough wooden floor with a painful sounding THUMP! Melinda stood over him and looked freely into his glaring eyes. "Right, now we've got that settled." Harry could not speak, but if he had, he would have put a Bat Bogey Hex on her so bad she would have been slapping at her face for weeks. He tried to use wandless magic, but he was not nearly powerful enough.

"Harry, you're not good enough to do magic without a wand," Melinda chuckled, showing off and levitating him with a wave of her left hand. Harry eyes almost widened in amazement. Melinda rolled her eyes. "You're embarrassing me," she accused. "Now, we're going out." She clicked her fingers and Harry disappeared. She stiffened, and with a whirl of her magenta robes, she disappeared in a cloud of smoke.


	4. Dumbledore's Abode

It was rather like a Portkey, Harry thought as he whirled through space. Dunno, I might even like this better than a Portkey. Or Floo Poweder. That stuff's nasty. I wonder if- his thoughts froze as he felt himself being pulled into the ground. He shut his eyes, anticipating a painful thud. It never came. When he dared to open his eyes, he saw that he was floating in a rather large living room. He could not see everything, only that which was right in front of his face. Maroon window treatments draped across the walls and framed pictures of hundreds of wizards were covering almost everything. Harry could not recognize any of them, but suspected that the one with an ugly nose just might have been Merlin. He was fast asleep, snoring loudly. A stone fireplace was looming in front of the soft Harry was over. From what he could see, it too was red.

'This must belong to a Gryffindor,' he thought joyfully. A CRACK! Melinda appeared and scowled at Harry's piercing green eyes.

"Oh, don't be such a party pooper," she reprimanded him. "You'll like it here. I mean, Grandfather did." Harry's jaw dropped. He swore. Even though he was frozen. Melinda stared at him, and then smacked herself on the forehead. "Oh right! Sorry Harry," she said as she waved her hand over his body and he fell with a thud to the floor. He could move. He made to punch the girl, but she conjured up a shield wandlessly and he was thrown back, crashing into the fireplace. He winced as he tried to stand up, but Melina walked over to him and pointed her wand directly at his head.

"Don't touch me, or I'll blow your brains out," she said cheerfully. "Clear?" Harry mumbled a response. "I can't hear you!" she sang, clearing enjoying tormenting him.

"Okay!" Harry bellowed. The walls shook, and several paintings awoke.

"Be quiet, boy!" one witch said, glaring at him and sticking her tongue out. Harry stuck his right back out , and turned his attention back to Melinda. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly, once again, looking frighteningly like McGonogall. Harry shrank back.

"Are you going to let me up?" he demanded. Melinda chuckled.

"Well I suppose I could," she said dramatically, speaking slowly, "but it's much more fun to abuse you. Harry leapt up, his Quidditch reflexes too quick for her. He tackled her to the ground, snatched up her wand, and pointed it at her heart.

"Now who's in charge?" he smirked. Melina looked unwavered. She held out her hand, and the wand flew into it. She stood up to an angry Harry.

"Don't – ever," she said looking menacing, "touch – me – again – ," Harry glared at her again, wanting to kill her for embarrassing him like this even if no one was there to see. She brandished her wand, and a sofa came zooming forward to cause Harry to topple back. She settled comfortably into a plush, pink chair.

"Now," she smiled smugly, "we came here to talk."

"What is there to talk about?" Harry growled. Melinda surveyed him.

"You're in a mood, Harry." Harry glared at her. "Only proving my point," she laughed. "You've got to stop feeling like a bloke. Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Dumbledore would think you're being selfish," she added. Harry leapt up, furious.

"Don't _ever_ bring him into this!" he snarled. Melinda didn't look at him.

"Don't _ever _get off the subject Harry," she mocked him. "Now, get out there and start destroying the Horcruxes! Save lives! Sirius would want you to, too." Harry stood up. That was it! No one would EVER make him feel guilty by mentioning two of the most important people in his life, both of which were dead. She had insulted their memories! He balled his hand into a fist, and punched. He met his target, right in the stomach. Melinda's eyes watered in pain. She gasped, staggering backwards, clutching her stomach.

"Harry!" she groaned. "Oh-my-Har-" her face turned white, and she fell forwards onto her knees. Harry gasped, and knelt by her side, staring at her lolling head.

"No!" he cried. "Bloody hell! M-Melinda, I'm sorry!" Her eyes were closed, and thick, oozing gunky stuff came seaping out under her eyelids and rolled down her cheeks. Saliva dripped from her mouth, and she wheezed heavily. Harry cradled her head, which was now in a grotesque angle falling limply over her shoulders. With a loud crack, and still holding onto her tightly, Harry disapparated to Hogwarts. He felt a searing pain in his stomach, and looking down. His legs were missing.

"I've splinched myself!" he screamed, howling in pain. This was pain; this was hurting; this was almost as bad as the Cruciatus curse, maybe ever worse. Half his body was missing, it felt like his insides were falling out. He regained some sense to look at his side to see Melinda lying perfectly still beside him, her crumpled form still on the floor. He saw with a pang that he had only moved a few feet. Of course, he smacked himself through his tears. Hogwarts has anti-apparation wards put up. I'm so stupid! But why was Melinda still whole? Was she really that powerful? After all, she _did _have Dumbledore's blood. Harry's sobs racked the air, and he wondered if anyone would ever find him. Probably not. He guessed that no one even knew Dumbledore owned this huge, magnificent place. Suddenly, the doors burst open.

"Harry Potter sir!" Dobby gasped. He rushed forward and clicked his fingers. Harry felt a heavy weight being attached to himself, and looked down to see that his bottom half had returned. It still hurt like shit, though, he grimaced, tenderly rubbing his hip.

"Thanks Dobby," he panted. The house-elf was looking at him fearfully.

"What is Mister Harry Potter doing here, sir?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"I'm with Melinda," he replied shortly. He had been ready to kill her, and now it looked as though that were true. Dobby's eyes widened.

"No sir," he whispered. "No, Harry Potter must not be with bad girl. Bad bad bad girl," he said shaking his finger. He then squeaked for no apparent reason, and tried to run. Harry caught him easily and spun him around so they were face to face.

"What are you talking about?" he demanded. Dobby shook his head, and disappeared.

"No!" Harry said angrily, stomping his foot on the floor. "No one tells me anything these days! Why did she fall, anyway?" he thought. "I mean, it was just a tiny punch. Maybe she's allergic to me?" He would have laughed if not for her disturbing form lying a few feet away. He concentrated fiercely on the mailbox at the Burrow, and found himself standing there.

"Harry Potter!" he gasped. "And quick!"

"Go right ahead," it replied in a pleasant voice, and the spells and enchantments protecting the house disappeared. Harry dashed forward and threw open the door.

"Mrs. Weasley! Mr. Weasley!" he shouted. "Help! It's Melinda." Suddenly a door sprung open, and Mr. Weasley appeared looking frightened.

"What's wrong with Melinda?" he asked wildly.

"She's hurt," Harry said quietly. He was not going to tell him how it was _him _who hurt her. Mr. Weasley clutched his wand.

"Where to?" he asked. Harry hesitated. Could they apparate there? Or were there anti-apparation wards?

"Dumbledore's place," he said at last. Mr. Weasley look confused.

"Dumbledore's place?" he repeated. Harry nodded. "Where is that?" Harry suddenly realized he didn't know.

"I'm not sure," he said helplessly. "She-she sort of sent me there. B-by surprise." Mr. Weasley smiled knowingly.

"Gippracted you, huh." Harry had no idea what that meant, but obviously Mr. Weasley did. He was chuckling to himself. "All right, Harry. You apparate there. Envision it clearly in your mind. I'll side-along with you. He grasped Harry's arm tightly. Harry focused on the beautiful Gryffindor living room, and with a pop, they were there. Mr. Weasley strode forwards, and then turned around and threw up his hands.

"Where is she, Harry?" Harry ran forward in a panic to the spot where Melinda had been lying only minutes before. She was gone.

"Melinda!" he shouted. "Where are you? You were right here, I saw you! Melinda!"

"Yes, Harry?" she asked, walking forward with a tray laden with food. "What do you want? I have some stuff here that Dobby gave me. Want some?" Harry stared at her.

"Bu-but," he sputtered. "I saw you! You were right there!" Melinda laughed.

"You're seeing things, Harry," she retorted with a snicker, but winking at him.

"I'm not!" Harry roared. "I'm not going nuts! I punched you, and you fainted!" Mr. Weasley gasped.

"You what?" he bellowed. "You punched her? For goodness sake, boy, did they not teach you manners at the place? You can't hit a girl!" Harry backed up in horror.

"She was there," he cried. "I swear, I saw her, she was RIGHT- THERE! Would I lie?" Mr. Weasley looked uncomfortable.

"Well…no, but," he stammered. "But what happened to her? If you hurt her so badly that she fainted, then she would have been severely injured. Harry, she's right here. I don't know what to tell you."

"She was right there!" Harry screamed, pounding his fist on the wall in frustration. He grabbed his hair and several thick clumps of black hair fell to the plush, red carpet. "So now I'm going crazy? What next?" Harry grabbed a pillow and started tearing it apart and letting the feathers fly everywhere, and continued to sever the now ruined fabric. Mr. Weasley pulled out his wand and pointed it with a shaking hand at Harry's heart.

"Harry, you need to calm down," he said in a forceful tone. Harry grabbed his own wand from the mantelpiece and aimed it at Mr. Weasley.

"I am calm!" he roared. Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. Out of the corner of his glass lenses he saw a dark figure walking shyly towards him. He whirled around to come face to face with Ron.

"Harry?" Ron's face was white and he was shivering in apprehension. "Harry? Why are you and Dad pointing your wands at each other?" Harry looked at him in the eye.

"I-," he suddenly realized he was dumbstruck, and at a loss for words. "I-er." Mr. Weasley came up from behind and placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry flushed and looked ashamed and embarrassed.

"Harry and I simply had a slight misunderstanding," he said calmly. Ron looked confused. Harry lowered his gaze and silently thanked Mr. Weasley. "Come on, boys," Mr. Weasley offered. "Let's go home. By the way Ron, what are you doing here?" he asked his youngest son curiously.

"Mum told me your clock hand was at Mortal Peril, and none of ours have been at it for awhile," he said defiantly. "I touched the W, and appeared here."

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "What W? Couldn't you just apparate?" Ron looked at him in complete exasperation and a bit of amusement. He shook his head in disappointment.

"Young Harry, Harry, Harry," he grinned, showing his teeth in a way that looked oddly familiar. Harry growled in mock anger.

"Don't even joke, Ron!" he said hotly. "I hate him!" Ron laughed, also remembering their encounter in the Chamber of Secrets with their deranged, cocky Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor. Mr. Weasley was baffled.

"Boys, what are you talking about?" Ron just shook his head.

"Old Lockhart story, dad," he said. He turned back to Harry. "Okay, our entire family has a W encrusted in our foot. Had it since we were born. We touch it, and appear at whoever we think of. Not as hard as apparating, because you don't have to do the three D's. Dumb, Dumber, and Definitely Dumbest. Oh, I'm sorry, that was four D's. Guess there are three people in this world. Those who can count, and those who can't. Sorry, Harry where was I?" Harry stared at him.

"Ron-are you okay?" he sputtered. "You seem really excited about something. Ron shook his head.

"Course not, Harry. Now, as kids, we couldn't apparate, so we could touch it and not go to Azkaban or get a huge fine or whatever. Got it?" Harry nodded silently. Ron rolled up the cuff of his sleeve to reveal a tiny, white W. Understanding, Harry touched it, and he vanished in a flourish of light.


	5. What Happened?

Chapter 5

Harry exhaled sharply as he tumbled into a rough, wooden floor and lay still for a second. Ron flipped him over while Harry tried to protest.

"You alright, mate?" Harry groaned in response. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot. It's easier to do than a Portkey, but it's still hard to get used too. Lots harder than Floo Powder. Come on, get up." Harry refused Ron's hand and stood up by himself, only wobbling slightly as Ginny appeared from around the corner. She grinned at him and waved her fingers at him flirtatiously. She gasped as she saw him.

"Merlin, Harry, you're sweating like a dog! What happened?" Harry looked down at himself to see his skin glistening with sweat, which was dripping off his body. He blushed.

"I'm okay," he reassured her, though not convincing himself. "Just going upstairs to lie down for awhile." Ginny looked worried, but headed into the kitchen to help Mrs. Weasley prepare her next meal.

What wrong with me? Harry cried silently. Am I going crazy? Was she right? If so, I'm a danger to everyone.

_But I saw her! I held her!_ His other self argued.

_Your mind is just overwhelmed, perhaps you were seeing things._

No, I felt her. She was real! She had robes on that I could touch! Hallucinations don't have that! I touched her head!

He didn't notice Ginny come in quietly, wave her wand and mutter a few soft words, or the orange mist that enveloped him as he fell into a perfect, dreamless slumber.

When he came to, he was lying on the couch. He groaned inwardly as he stood, and staggered towards the kitchen. Ginny was moving her wand in complicated whooshing patterns and causing plates and cups to wash themselves in the sink. He was humming a common muggle tune that Harry couldn't quite place.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Ginny grinned. Harry gaped.

"God, is it morning already? Did I sleep for a whole day? What's going on, what did I miss?" Ginny placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and kissed him.

"Relax, Harry. I was kidding. It's just past dinner, you missed it. I saved you some things, though. Are you hungry?" Harry shook his head.

"I'm alright for now. Listen, do you know where Ron is?" Ginny shook her head.


End file.
